Dreams to Dust
by maharini
Summary: Every night they dreamt of each other, and now, a year later, Buffy and Spike finally meet. But as they try to figure out the mystery of their curious connection, the pair finds themselves fighting for their lives and relationship around every corner.
1. Prologue

**Summary:** Every night they dreamt of each other, and now, a year later, Buffy and Spike finally meet. But as they try to figure out the mystery of their curious connection, the pair finds themselves fighting for their lives and relationship around almost every corner.

**Disclaimer: **The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is meant only to entertain.

**Author's Note:** This is based off of challenge 234 at the bloodshedverse. And thanks to basiliothecat for the read over and beta job.

**Dreams to Dust **

Prologue

Spike clenched his jaw as he made his way through the thick, never ending forest. His movements were slow as he carefully walked through the tangle of wood that made up the trees and forest floor. It wouldn't do him much good to dusted by a stray branch in the heart.

Bleeding waste.

He must have a death wish.

Didn't much care either. He had gone to bed that evening in a rage of fury after Drusilla had left the bedroom singing praises bout her precious Daddy. The hand through the wall hadn't been much help, he could do well with diving heart first onto to a stake rather than listen to her piddle on about the large foreheaded poof. Bloody annoying that, having to listen to her adore another man. All he did for her, all the love he had given her and she still barely gave him a second glance.

Sides he abandoned them. Spike and Dru didn't need Angelus, and he sure as hell didn't deserve the likes of them.

Not that it changed a thing. A hundred plus years of devoting his entire existence to his sire, his dark Princess, and she still didn't seem to care even a tiny smidge 'bout him. It's bloody unfair is what it was. Not even a sodding thank you, just a nice song about Angelus and how precious he is.

He was sick of being love's bitch. Sick of giving her his heart only to have it shoved in his face every possible second. He had nothing left to give her, she had stomped on it to many times. He was through, exhausted.

Spike snapped a branch sticking out in the middle of the almost non-existent path. This forest of a maze was infuriating him, and mixing that said frustration with his anger for Drusilla was doing nothing for his mood. He imagined the wood to be a nice, juicy neck. Perhaps Angelus being snapped into a big pile of dust, a pleasant thought if there ever was one.

He was in a really sour mood.

The fact that he hadn't clue where he was, wasn't helping. Nor was this death trap disguised as a forest.

He stopped and took the time to sniff the air, using his enhanced senses to detect anything that might be some sort of clue. The scent hit his nose almost instantly. The smell of tears and vanilla.

It provided a goal, and his frustration slowly turned into curiosity as his feet led him to where he wanted to go. He felt something tugging at his stomach, pulling him forward in the direction he needed to go. It was strong, he was surprised that he hadn't felt it before. The demon clawed at his chest. It meant only one thing.

He moved faster.

He had nothing left to lose, and almost everything to gain.

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He had pushed and shoved, the branches snapping against him with little effort. Seconds turned to minutes but finally Spike found himself at the edge of the thick line of trees, at the start of a grassy circle, trees lining the outside, dandelions popping up in random places. In the middle kneeled a girl.

He had reached his goal. A tiny slip of a girl, couldn't be more than sixteen, if that, shaking as she cried away her fears and inner demons. She was beautiful.

And she was in pain.

He couldn't not go to her.

"What's wrong, luv?"

Spike pushed her hair behind her ear, and then quickly snapped his hand back as he realized what he was doing. As much as he wanted to keep his Big Bad persona, he wanted more to comfort the girl in front of him. A human, a girl that he didn't know. Bleedin' dream. He was losing his touch, he was. Should be ripping her to shreds and basking in her blood as it poured past his lips. He shouldn't have to think about it, it was simply a part of his nature. But instead his hand moved to rub comforting circles on her back, in an effort to calm her.

All had gone to hell.

Not that it mattered. He didn't care. He'd do what he wanted and when, sod everything else.

The pull was strong.

He moved to put his arm around her shoulder and to pull her close to his chest. She was warm. It felt good against his skin.

Spike barely heard her whispered, "Everything," it had been spoken so softly.

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Her long golden locks were sprawled everywhere, damp with sweat and tears. The sweet vanilla scent of her shampoo tickled his nose as he buried his nose in her hair. It was the nicest thing he had ever had the pleasure of smelling.

Her skin was soft and warm against his cold skin. It had been years since he had felt warmth like this. He realized he missed it. Missed it dearly.

He gently caressed her arms as he whispered soothing words in her ears. She was beginning to calm, her breath was beginning to even. This was something he was used to. Comforting the girl. He had spent many a nights holding Drusilla just like this as she moaned about this and that. Dru and her bloody visions.

This felt different though. With Drusilla it had been an obligation. She was his sire, responsible for creating him, how could he not help her. Spike had wanted her affection, wanted her to know, to see, how much he cared for her, what he was willing to do. And in turn he had hoped that she would give to him as much as he knew he could give to her.

She never did.

But with this girl, with this golden girl, it wasn't like that. He needed to comfort her, needed to help her. She was hurting, and as she hurt, a part of him did as well. It was wrong, but it was what he felt.

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At long last her tears had finally come to a stop, and he felt the ache slowly fade away. Pressing a kiss to her smooth forehead, he asked. "All better."

"You're cold," she complained in a whisper and Spike shivered at the obvious reminder of what he was. Of what he was doing.

"I am."

It wasn't long before he felt her tense in his arms. It was agony watching the emotions play out across her face. First confusion, then realization, fear, and finally anger. He dropped his arms to his sides when she decided to jump suddenly to her feet. No point in a struggle. He was in no mood to fight her.

He couldn't fight her.

"You're one of them," she accused. Her voice was a mixture of anger and fear. "A vampire."

She spat the word with such hatred and anger, that in that moment Spike, for the first time since he had been turned, had truly despised the creature that he was. For a brief moment, anyway. "Know 'bout us then?"

"I'm the Slayer," she said haughtily, hands at hips and acting all high and mighty. It was cute. "I kill your kind."

Of all the things, he just had to run himself into a Slayer, comfort her, and enjoy it. That there ruined his reputation as Slayer of Slayers. "Is that right?" He replied with a sneer. "Gonna kill me then."

He never lunged. Knew she was the Slayer and didn't bother to take the first punch. Bloody thought never even crossed his mind. Just sat back, ready to defend himself if need be. It was so unlike him, he was the act first, think later type of guy. It was fighting like this that could get him killed. Recklessness, almost like he was a sodding fledgling and not a Master Vampire.

He was just asking for a dusting.

"Yes. Yes. Of course." She stuttered her way through as she regained her focus. She aimed a punch at his head that he easily ducked. Then another and another. One miss after miss.

She had no fucking clue what she was doing. It was like she had never thrown a punch in her life. Caught up in the fight, he didn't hesitate to tell her exactly that.

"Didn't really get a chance to."

A Slayer. Never trained, and by the look of the cry fest earlier, she had just been called. An easy kill. It was his chance to bag his third Slayer.

And yet he didn't.

Instead the next words that came out of his mouth surprised both him and her. "Then I'm just the vamp ta teach you."

It was official. The world was coming to an end.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** The characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.

**Chapter One**

Perhaps the correct term was that he had an addiction. Addicted to some blonde that haunted his dreams at night. She was in his head, his thoughts, his blood. She was everywhere. Something Drusilla never failed to point out.

Drusilla, in fact, thought the whole thing was fucking hilarious.

Spike wanted to wring her pale little neck. It was not funny, it was anything but funny. It was killing him is what it was doing. Slowly killing him. Taking over to the point where there soon wouldn't be anything left.

And there wasn't much left.

Feeding was a hoot and a half. Didn't much care for it expect for the fact it was necessary to remain in his unlife. Still fed on human blood, no substitute for that sweet ambrosia. And there was no sodding way he was going to live off sewer rats like the poof. He was still a vampire, had to keep some of his dignity. He was already turning into a laughing stock for the masses.

He didn't kill.

And there was the problem. He had no desire to kill. It had been something he reveled in, got off on, and now just the thought of it did nothing but make him nauseous. Made him sick it did. And it annoyed the bleeding hell out of him. Specially seeing as he needed to kill something, needed to get his frustrations out. But he couldn't and that little handicap only worked to make his frustration worse.

He was turning into one lousy wimp of a vampire.

But that wasn't the only thing that changed. Oh no. He slept at night now. Not during the day. Night.

Why? Because she slept at night.

The first time he had been angry at Drusilla and didn't much feel like going out with her to feed. Second night he wanted to see if it was a fluke, he supposed, he wasn't really sure. He remembered the strong desire to crawl into the bed at the same time as the night before. He had been unable to deny it. And so it had been for two weeks, sleeping in the middle of the night, sleeping to dream, sleeping for some bloody girl.

Pathetic.

But then they stopped.

Two weeks and the stupid chit disappeared. Now two months later not even a wink. Nothing. Not even an explanation. Only the reassurance that she was still lucky enough to be alive. Could feel her, in his gut, knew she was okay.

She was real. Real. As in not just some bloody dream.

Not a doubt in his mind that the chit didn't exist. Day after the first, he'd been sitting in a local demon bar and received word that a new Slayer had been called. There was clue number one. Spike was good, but even he, the Slayer of Slayers, wasn't that good that he had the ability to determine and see when a new one was called. That was Drusilla's deal, not his.

Clue number two. The big staring in his face, you can't miss this clue. The one where his habits started changing, he stopped killing, strange desire to sleep at night. Kinda obvious. His feelings were all skewered. Some bunch of junk that he hacked up to lack of control and him losing his bloody mind. Felt things that he knew he shouldn't, but he did anyway and couldn't bring himself to care other than the fact that he knew he really shouldn't be feeling the way he did. It was a confusing mess of emotions, and he was beginning to think his inner William had decided to come out to play.

Bottom line, dreams shouldn't have such a strong effect on a person no matter what they are. Not natural.

Then add in the fact that she seemed to be calling all the shots and you had yourself a damn good set of reasons as to why he chalked those dreams up to something more. Couldn't figure out what, probably some spell or what not. But there was definitely something bigger at force here.

There was no other way to possibly explain what he was going through. What he was feeling. It wasn't love. It definitely wasn't that. Spike was a many things, but he wasn't stupid enough to fall in love with some girl in two weeks that only existed in his head. Well to him, she could go be 3-D elsewhere.

A part of him knew he needed to figure it out, and the other part of him was terrified at what he might find when he did. So he did nothing, he was messed up enough as it was, there was no desire to make it worse.

She had cared though. Spike knew that much. He knew she at least trusted him, had to with the things she had been telling him; her dirty little secrets. Although you had to minus the fact that at the time she was throughly convinced that he was indeed just a figment of her little overactive imagination. But she had cared, and more than Drusilla ever had in the hundred plus years he had known her.

That had meant something. It had meant a lot. For once there was someone who didn't look down on him in some way, shape, or form. Someone who viewed him as an equal. And at night that was what they were. They were equals finding company in the likes of the other. Titles didn't matter. Someone was there, someone to talk to, someone that cared.

He had needed that.

Spike hadn't realized how much until he had met her, but he had. Truth was adult conversations with Drusilla were few and far between. She was to far lost in her own mind, too much like a child, to understand what was really going on around her most of the time.

And Spike had needed more.

Night and his Golden girl had given him that. And then she had taken it away.

He was consumed by her. She was everywhere, and he was fading away because of it. He didn't want it. He didn't understand it. But that didn't change the fact that he needed it. Needed her.

It was a load of tosh.

Every part of him craved her. The demon included. And yet he knew the wrong that would come of it, was coming of it. And he didn't care. In fact the whole point was that he found himself more bothered by the fact that he didn't care when he knew he should, than the changes and feelings he was experiencing.

It was almost like he didn't know himself anymore. He was confused. And he needed her to make the confusion go away, because when he was with this slayer nothing else mattered. And he needed her to help him forget because nothing else seemed to be working.

Two months of nothing, nothing but unexplainable change and disappointments. And yet just like every other night he stared at the bed in front of him, debating whether or not he'll cave and climb into it. Which he will, but it doesn't make the process any easier.

He was weak.

But he couldn't give up. Not yet. Not when she had cared. Not when she had treated him better than second best. And not until he figured out what was going on. Because until then, he couldn't confront his feelings. He couldn't understand them. He wouldn't know if it was real or some illusion cast by a spell.

Until then he was setting himself up for a fall. But he didn't care. He just climbed into bed and slept to dream. Just like he did every other night. It was the only thing that made any sense anymore.

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Buffy wasn't completely stupid. She knew perfectly well that she couldn't play avoid-o girl forever. That it would eventually come back to bite her in her fashionably covered behind. But then again was it even really her fault? How was one girl suppose to handle the enormous amount of pressure that came with being the one and only Vampire Slayer.

She just wanted a normal life, which in her opinion wasn't to much to ask for. She wanted her parents to not think she was crazy. She wanted friends that didn't think she was majorly weird. And she really wanted to stop seeing vampires around every corner.

Her mother just had to move to the Hellmouth, the one place where she couldn't rest, the one place where demons and the supernatural would always swarm. One lousy day in some sorry excuse of a town and she was already thrust back into the world that she so desperately tried to run from.

Major suckage right there.

Was a little more time too much to ask for? Because she needed it. Maybe get the chance to ease back into the slayage, little by little while she established her place at Sunnydale high. Give her the chance to get settled in, and maybe raise her grades a tad so her mother doesn't think she's a complete failure.

She was so tired of being a failure.

The answer though wouldn't change. She could moan all she wanted, but she knew she wouldn't just sit back and do nothing. She couldn't. Even when she was retired she still did a little something if she came across a quarrel. Then she just pretended it didn't happen to keep the illusion, the denial going strong. It made her feel normal.

She wasn't normal. She would never be normal.

Buffy's eyes strayed to her bed. She had stopped being avoid-o girl now, she had fully embraced her duty, to an extent anyway, so she could. She could climb under the covers, fall asleep and dream of her grove, never having to worry about nightmares.

She could have peace again.

In that little grove with her vampire, she felt surprisingly safe. There, they're were no worries, just them. They were all that mattered. The dreams made her happy, made her forget, made everything bearable.

And she ignored them.

As far as she was concerned they were a part of that world she was trying to avoid, vampires being the creatures she slayed and all, even if she didn't feel like slaying that particular vampire. Point of the matter was the dreams, the vampire, they were associated with her life as a Slayer. And she wanted to have nothing to do with that, even if they gave her a good feeling.

Which was totally weird. She was a Vampire Slayer, she should so not like, or even tolerate a vampire, even if he was just in her dream world.

Did that make her a bad Slayer? Probably.

Better to just avoid the whole thing. Right. Cause if not, she had a feeling these dreams of hers could get her in a whole mess of trouble. It didn't matter that for a short time she got some form of peace, some type of rest, some sort of satisfaction out of the whole thing. It was a whole road of badness. It was not of the good.

Not that she cared.

She missed him. God help her, but she did.

The dreams were nice, made her feel good. It felt right. And when she didn't dream, a part of her felt almost empty. It would take all her willpower not to dream of the wooded grove. Her nights were filled with little sleep and lots of tossing, turning, and tangled sheets. Peace was hard to find without the dreams. But she hadn't given in, that, at the time, hadn't been her life.

But now it was. So why shouldn't she give in?

She knew the answer. She knew it was wrong. Vampire equals evil and all things bad. That had been drilled into her head since she had first picked up a stake. The thing was, she didn't think he was bad. He was her vampire. She could feel it, and when she was with him everything else faded away. It was a good feeling.

And that was the scary part. She forgot. What kind of person, no, what kind of Slayer did that make her. Even if only in her sleep, she was giving into a feeling that was so powerful that she forgot everything else around her.

It was an excuse. Who cared. The fact of the matter was by dreaming she wasn't hurting anybody. Except perhaps herself.

She had wanted a reason not to. But now she didn't need one, she just needed him.

That night she would sleep to dream.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N:** Based off of Challenge 234 at the Bloodshedverse. Some dialogue taken from the episode 1x02 The Harvest written by Joss Whedon, although may be slightly out of the original context. Thanks to Basiliothecat for taking the time to beta this for me.

**Chapter Two**

She was there and Spike was able to sigh in relief. She was okay. She had come back. Everything was alright again. Spike felt the weight lift from his chest, he could breathe the air he didn't need again. Everything wasn't so hard anymore. It was better, and all because she was there.

Stupid bint. He wanted to strangle her silly. Not fair of her, to put him, them, through such torture.

But she didn't know, she still didn't understand. And if she did, he was pretty sure it would scare her off. She had to figure it out on her own. No matter how much he wanted to tell her, to find her, and figure out what it was all about, the only way for it to work was if she figured it out on her own.

She was a stubborn one alright.

He laid himself down beside her and glanced at the stars that she was staring at so intensely. He was close to her again. He felt the peace wash over him. It was as it should be, they were together. But quiet time was over, and Spike wanted answers. He deserved that much.

"Long time, no see, pet." She didn't respond, just continued to stare at the tiny specks of light in the sky. Spike refused to be ignored. "Care to give a bloke an explanation."

"Doesn't matter."

Doesn't matter. Was she daft. Of course it did. Can't just avoid a bloke for a few months and then show up and expect everything to be peachy keen. Gotta work it out. Can't just go away because you wish it.

Besides how could he help her, if she didn't open up. And he wanted to help her. He could feel the pain radiating off her. There was so much of it He itched to help her.

Couldn't tell her that though. So instead he turned to his side and propped his head on his elbow. It was a very non-vampire type thing to do. "Humor me."

"Everything spiraled out of control. I needed things to be normal."

He felt the stab. He was one of those things. He wasn't normal. He had caused her pain. "Something I'm not."

"No." She denied. "But you are a part of the world I was trying to avoid."

He suddenly understood. She had given up. Stopped doing her sacred duty, and as a vampire he was a reminder of that. A reminder of the life she didn't want. It hurt to think about it. More than he liked to admit.

"And?" He prompted her with the urge for her to continue.

"I'm not anymore." She said simply, before turning on her side to mimic his position. She looked at him for a few moments, her eyes laced with what looked like guilt. Her intent was clear. It hadn't been because she hated him, she still cared. "I am sorry though, for what it's worth."

Spike so desperately wanted more. Wanted her to tell him what she was thinking, tell him what was going through that pretty little head of hers. But he couldn't ask, because to do so would break her illusion. Something he wasn't ready to do. Something she wasn't ready for. So for now, he had to play to her terms.

"Forgive and forget," he muttered. It wouldn't do to dwell. He could only give her what she needed. And she needed, at this moment, to forget the last two months. She didn't understand, and it would probably be quite a bit till she did. She was delicate, confused and terrified of the world around them, and he knew she used these dreams as an outlet. They both did, because precious little made sense in their worlds anymore. And what did, was here. They were what they needed. He may not understand it, and a part of him disliked what he was feeling with a hatred so large that it was unfair to her. But he still needed it, needed her. So he couldn't push, because to do so meant he would lose her. He already had, and it had hurt, an ache that he couldn't ignore or push away.

So he couldn't push. Not yet. And maybe not ever. It wasn't worth it.

She gave him a smile that he could have sworn melted his insides and snuggled into him, before resuming her task of gazing at the stars. Tonight they didn't need words, just each other.

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Buffy hated lectures. Especially lectures about Vampires and Demons. And don't get her started on the lectures about the history of said creatures. She was a Slayer. She didn't need to know how they got here, she just needed to know how to kill them. She wasn't going to sit back and think about all their past accomplishments while shoving a stake through their heart. That would be distracting. And distractions were a no-no.

But apparently she had let the secret out and now Giles, the new, much stuffier Watcher, had decided that a nice shiny lecture was needed for the sake of Xander and Willow. The two had gotten themselves knee deep into her little world. The fact that Buffy had to sit here and listen as Giles rambled about stuff she had heard a million times now was totally not fair.

It wasn't her fault that kids in this town were too nosey for their own good. Didn't people ever hear the expression mind your own business.

Other than that they were alright. Much nicer than the kids that she use to hang out with at Hermy. She figured if they didn't run screaming after this, they might be able to make nice with a pretty new friendship.

"This world is older than any of you know. Contrary to popular mythology, it did not begin as a paradise. . ."

Paradise. Now that was nice. Totally better then some snooty Hellmouth. She should go there.

Oh, oh, oh. Sleep totally equaled paradise, or as close as she would ever get.

She had way to much energy, Buffy decided. All thanks to her brand new sleeping pattern that actually involved a decent nights sleep minus the nightmares and uncomfortable thoughts. Plus her lack of needing to curl up into a ball and resume sleeping was not good for lectures. She did not want to sit here and listen, she wanted to do, well, something. Something that involved exercise and fun.

Plus fun, good for making the time pass faster. And faster time passing meant total night fallage. And. .

And she had officially lost it, what teenager looks forward to sleeping.

Well they would, if they met the total cutie that haunted her dreams. Hah.

"... All that remains of the old ones are vestiges, certain magicks, certain creatures..."

Boring.

"And vampires." Buffy added. Can't forget those vampires, who are pretty much evil. Well, most of the time. She suddenly resisted the urge to giggle. She couldn't giggle, she was way past that stage of her life.

It was weird. She should be majorly with the bad moodiness right now. But she was happy. Way happy. Almost in an abnormal way. She hadn't felt that emotion, this fully, for a long time. It was nice.

Xander and Willow, on the other hand, weren't happy. They were freaked, and who could blame them. "No. No, th-those weren't vampires," replied Buffy when Willow had mentioned the creatures they had run into last night. Which was a lie of course. You'd have to blind not to figure that out. "Those were just guys in thundering need of a facial. Or maybe they had rabies. It could have been rabies." Buffy had seen Spike's bumpies, a few times actually. And for a vampire, he had been kind of cute. Bad thoughts. "A-and that guy turning to dust? Just a trick of the light." Xander gave her a look that said he didn't buy it. She sighed and gave in, the kids here were too nosey for their own good. "That's exactly what I said the first time I saw a vampire. Well, after I was done with the screaming part."

"Oh, I, I need to sit down," said Willow nervously. Which in turn caused Buffy the need to point out the fact that the red head was indeed already sitting down.

Giles went back into lecture mode and Buffy once again let her mind wander. It wasn't her job to know about the history, she just needed to slay them. Besides she needed some major self reflection time.

She was giddy after having a dream about a vampire. Something that was not of the good. It wasn't done, she shouldn't have feelings for her mortal enemy, even if he was just apart of a dream. That was what the very tiny, sensible, I'm a good girl that likes to follow the rules told her. And so it was pretty obvious just how small that part really was. Buffy Summers follow the rules. Come on.

She was in a good mood. And this was where she got stuck and that nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach started. The feeling that told her that she was missing something so big that it was probably glaring her in the face, in hands reach and she still missed because she was allowing herself to be blind to the effects that these dreams had on her. They made her happy. Which was fine. Dreams should be happy, but she didn't think they made you this happy. This was too happy to be caused by a simple dream.

It was big. She could feel it.

Bottom line, she was confused. And the more she thought about it, the more her smile faded. In the end, like everything else, it was just too good to be true.

Only bad things could come of self-reflection and lectures made by Giles.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

**Prophecy Girl **

Tomorrow night Buffy will face the Master, and she will die.

Over and over those words repeated in her head. Tomorrow night would be her last. She had no choice. It was her duty and she was supposed to be a good little Slayer and take it with a smile and a nod. It was bad enough knowing that any fight could be her last, but to know which fight it would be, and when, was that much worse. How was she just suppose walk into it, and not be scared.

She was terrified. And she didn't have a choice. Those had been taken from her a long time ago. She had to go in and act like she didn't have a care in the world. Accept her sacred duty for what it was and die for it, so the new Slayer could be called, take her place.

How could they possibly ask that of her.

She needed William. She hoped he wasn't late. Not tonight. They didn't have time to waste. Seconds ticked by faster and faster as she stared at the clock until finally she had to turn it face down. There would never be enough time.

It had been three months and she still allowed herself to enter the Grove each night. And just like her, he, or as he told her to call him William, eventually came through the thick pile of trees. Some nights they spent in complete silence, just enjoying the other's company. And others they talked about anything and everything. She had told William things she had never told anyone else. Things she could never imagine telling anyone else. She told him everything.

He was her rock. Her foundation and she clung to him like he was last thing on earth. She needed him. He was one of the few good things she had left in this world.

She knew that these dreams were more than just, well, dreams. She had figured that out when the really cute guy named Owen, who was a total hottie and absolute sweetheart, had asked her out. She didn't even take the time to think about it, didn't take the time to soften the blow, she just blurted out a short no and stormed out of the library. Just the thought had disgusted her. Talk about over-reacting. She apologized the next day, but it still had been incredibly rude. Something that at the time had been really hard for her to admit.

After that she realized, after close examination, that she found no other guys attractive. Even the other mystery vamp in her life, a vampire that had a soul might she add, named Angel. No desire, she wasn't even in like with another guy besides the vampire named William that resided only in her dreams. She even felt a tiny twinge of guilt for thinking about trying to like another guy.

That right there had to mean something of the supernatural. You shouldn't feel guilty for contemplating cheating on some guy you only ever saw in your dreams. In fact she shouldn't even feel like she was cheating, it wasn't like he was her boyfriend or anything.

Totally weird.

She had contemplated telling Giles. She thought perhaps it was some Slayer gift thing. We'll give you a full nights sleep and in return you focus totally and completely on slaying. You know because then you won't be distracted by the boys.

Totally bizarre theory, she figured, but with the things she saw every night, Buffy had come to expect the impossible. So really, it was as good a theory as anything else.

Just like the fact that her dreams were more than dreams, even though she knew they were, but still pretended they weren't because that would ruin the illusion. More than a dream meant making it more complicated and the dreams were supposed to be her get away peace type thing. And there would be no way she would be ruining that any time soon. So she would just continue to pretend. It was easier that way, her life was already complicated enough. Let's not make it more so. That was her motto.

Plus the simple thought of telling Giles freaked her out. Really freaked her out, borderline panic attacks, at just the thought of all his possible reactions.

He could think that she was a horrible person for crushing on a vampire. Which made her mad, because what right did he have to possess such an opinion. He could call her a bad Slayer. Which he already kind of did. He could even have her killed. Okay that last thought was on the small side of extreme, especially seeing as she was dying tomorrow anyway, but who knew what those creepy Council guys were capable of.

She climbed into bed. Tomorrow she would save the world, she had no choice. But tonight, tonight, she needed William. There was no reason to even think of anything else, it's not like it even mattered anymore. After all, she was going to die tomorrow, and as Giles told it, there wasn't a damn thing she could do to change that fact.

8888888

The feeling had been building within him all day. Something wasn't right. He could feel it in his bones that something horrible was about to happen. He stepped into the grove that night with a feeling of apprehension. He had no idea what to expect.

She was in his arms, hugging him, before he could even process the fact that she was there. The feeling got worse.

"Miss me, pet." He said with a small smirk as he returned the hug, holding her tightly to him. Maybe, just maybe he was overreacting. What bad could possibly come from a hug.

He breathed in her scent. She smelt like home. She hugged him tighter, and it wasn't hard for him to pick up on her fear, it was everywhere. Something was most definitely wrong.

"What's wrong?" She just shook her head and clung to him, if possible, even harder. "What's wrong, luv?" Spike repeated.

"It's over," she said.

Over? What the hell. What was she doing. Breaking up with him, or breaking up whatever messed up definition of a relationship they had. Not quite how it works there.

She was giving up. The way she stood, the way she was clinging to him oh so desperately, her fear. It all meant the same thing. She was giving up, giving in, what the fuck ever. But when it came down to it she was the shell of a defeated Slayer. And he should know, he fought and killed enough of 'em to understand that look. But sod everything if he was going to let her get away with that. She had done it once and gotten off scott free last time. He wasn't going to let it go that way again. No bloody way. Spike remembered how much it hurt, and he refused to let him, or her go through that again. Not gonna happen.

Spike shook his head. "No," he said firmly.

"I don't have a choice."

Choice? This girl really was thick. Did she really lack that much hope, or had she given up her ability of free will. Of course she had a choice.

"There's a prophecy," she added a second later.

Prophecy. Now there was a mood killer. Fucking piece of paper with cryptic words that tell you what may or may not come to pass. In his years he had seen many a thwarted. And many more follow through word by word. There was always hope though, always a way around if you look hard enough. Destiny and fate was a load of crock in Spike's opinion. You make your own path in life, plain and simple. He would make sure she did the same.

But was she right? She didn't choose to be the Slayer, she was hand picked. Did that make her just a target of the Fate's that did with her what they will. They better hope not, they would have Spike, William the Bloody to answer to then.

"Tomorrow night," she started, her voice was low and shaky. "Tomorrow night, I die."

The feeling of impending doom hit full force. If he had been alive and possessed the ability to breathe, Spike would have suddenly found himself without the necessary oxygen. He had felt it all day, felt the coming danger, and now that he knew what it meant, it was that much worse.

It wasn't a dream any longer. It was his worst nightmare.

He felt it, felt it in his bones that the end was coming. She had given in. Accepted her fate, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He wasn't there. He couldn't stop her. He couldn't even help her. For the first time in a long time he felt helpless.

"William?" She was looking at him, and Spike knew she was expecting him to make it better for her. But how could he? He was helpless against the forces. There was no time. It was all happening so fast and crumbling down around him. Eventually they would have to wake up, and then there would be nothing. He didn't know how to help her.

"What? How?"

"The Master. It's a pretty lame prophecy, on many levels might I add. But it's pretty clear on the fact that I get to visit the land of the dead."

She was joking, making light out of something dark. It annoyed him, but he also knew that she was doing it because she was terrified. Scared of what was about to come, but wanted to put on a brave face because either way it wouldn't make a difference. She needed to make it easier.

She had given up. He couldn't help her, he couldn't even make it better.

"Don't go," hissed Spike, his hands clutching her arms tightly. He was desperate and just as scared as her.

"No choice. Gave that power up the day whoever it is decided to choose me as their little pawn," she said, the pain clear in her eyes.

"Then. . ." Straws. He was grabbing at straws.

She cut him off. "I don't want to talk about it. The what ifs, it won't help. The fact of the matter is I knew that eventually it would happen. Dying young is part of the package, I just didn't realize it would be this soon." Her voice was bitter, but then it softened before she continued. "I just want one last night with you, William. Like it was before. Please."

What the lady wishes, the lady gets.

"Alright." He sighed, defeated. He could have fought it, made up some crazy plan to save her, but they both knew it wouldn't help. And wouldn't do for her to see him in pain like that, desperate to help her. She was scared enough for herself, and she needed the support. She expected him to be that support. And so that's what he would be for her. He could do nothing else.

Leading her to the middle of the Grove, they laid down just like they always did, in each other's arms. Their laughs and smiles forced despite the fact that they each promised to pretend nothing was amiss. But it was, and neither could stop thinking about what might happen the next day, what would happen. Paradise was over. Paradise didn't exist.


	5. Chapter Four

**Author's Notes**: Based off of challenge 234 at the Bloodshedverse. Thanks to basiliothecat for betaing this for me. Review Please.

**Chapter Four**

Nothing.

He felt absolutely nothing. Everything was missing. The pull was gone, no longer existent, and nothing else was there to him. He felt like nothing now.

She was gone.

He hadn't saved her. Couldn't even try. He had failed.

The day had been torture, knowing what was coming. Knowing what was about to happen and not being able to do anything about it. The sunlight glared at him through the cracks in the curtains, taunting him as if the knowledge he already possessed wasn't enough to do so. He paced. Grabbed the keys to the Desoto several times and made it half way down the street before turning around and resuming his never ending walk back and forth across the bedroom floor.

Plan after plan filled his head as he thought about the situation at hand. But none of it was good enough. He couldn't get to her. He had wasted too much time dancing around her, in an effort to console her, and refused to follow his instincts. His instinct to find her, to see her face to face.

He didn't know where she was. Had no sodding clue.

Oh he asked. Casually slid the question in one of their brief conversations the night before. She responded with a long, hard look and then a quick change of the subject. She knew. She must have. He knew, she knew, and she must know that he knew. They both knew and they hadn't done a bloody thing about it. She had to sit on that high horse of hers, and now it was too late to do anything.

To late.

Stubborn bint.

He had a faint connection with the Master, them being family and all. But to follow that would require concentration, patience, and a whole bunch of time. Time that he didn't have. Time he never had. Time he never would.

It was over. And like she said, the what if's didn't matter. It was just a waste of energy, thinking about what could be done, too late. Beating yourself up over something you couldn't change.

He had failed.

In the end, all of it was a dead end. He had failed her. He couldn't protect her.

Drusilla was nowhere to be seen. Had left in a tissy yesterday, crying and whining about who knew what, and he was glad. Happy he didn't have to listen to her praise her Daddy and moan about the whispers in her ear. She didn't care. At least not about him. For over a hundred years he had loved her with every part of himself, and she had done nothing but throw it back in his face. She belonged to Angelus.

And if Drusilla did care, she certainly didn't care as much as his golden girl. Not nearly so. In the end he belonged to her; Drusilla was simply a pawn in getting him there. He knew that now, felt it in all he had. He had felt the pull. The pull that now wanted him to do nothing more but walk into the sun, and follow his girl into the life beyond.

He was nothing. There was nothing left for him. She had been it. And he had failed. His girl was gone. And every part of him mourned. William. The demon. And Spike, the mixture of them both. She was gone before something could even begin.

Which was probably why. Everything about what they experienced was wrong, completely and totally wrong. She was a Slayer that killed his kind. He was a vampire that had killed two of hers. He shouldn't feel drawn to her for any other reason than the want to kill her, to taste her blood. Most of which, minus the blood tasting, is the farthest thing from his mind when he's with her.

The logical part of him knows it's wrong, but the other part, the much bigger part doesn't care. The bigger part doesn't see anything wrong with it, likes it, wants it. The demon wants it, wants her, likes her. The demon practically purrs in contentment when with her.

There wasn't a part of him that didn't want her. Didn't need her. It scared the hell out of him, and he wants it with every fiber of his being. Anything is better than this feeling of emptiness. Anything.

He had no idea what had happened to him. Just that he wanted it back. Wanted everything to go back to the way it was before, before she went away. This hurt too much and he needed her to make the pain go away. But she wasn't there, she wasn't anywhere, and so there he was, left as a shell of what he once was.

Nothing.

He wanted to curl up in the bed and dream of the grove. Wanted to press soft kisses against her golden head and whisper reassurances in her ear.

But he didn't. Because he knew she wouldn't be there. And he didn't want to give himself false hope. She didn't get any of that. He didn't deserve to hope.

Spike sank into the chair across from his bed. The need to slip under the covers was growing stronger. Maybe she had decided not to, maybe she had decided to rebel. Maybe, just maybe she had decided to hell with it.

But he knew that wasn't so. He felt nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. It was the worst feeling in the world, and he knew he deserved every second of it. He had failed her.

The one person that had cared more than anyone he had ever met was gone. The person he trusted with his secrets, the person who trusted him with hers was gone. She had left nothing in her place. And he understood. His purpose was no more. Now, he was just a shell.

Every part of him wept. And that night, when he finally closed his eyes, he still dreamt of the grove. It was all of her he had left. It was all he could think to do.


	6. Chapter Five

Author's Notes:

Thanks to the kind basiliothecat for the beta job. Review Please!

**Chapter Five**

"Hey now, none of that," Buffy whispered, her thumbs wiping at his tears. Spike's eyes raised to hers in surprise, a small smile was gracing her features.

She was there. And she was very real. He could feel it. It suddenly wasn't so empty. Nothing had been replaced with something.

She had come back from beyond the grave.

"How?" He grasped her hand with his. He needed to feel her. Reassure himself that she was there. It was too surreal.

"I'm like a cat, you know, with the multiple lives thing and all," she quipped. He began checking her for injuries.

He was stunned. He could only look at her with wonder. It was a miracle. It could only be described as a miracle. He wanted to pinch himself to see if it hurt, but then he remembered he was already dreaming.

"But you. . ." Spike couldn't bring himself to say the word. "I felt it."

"For like a minute. Miracle of CPR."

"And the Master?" Spike questioned.

"A pile of dust," she said happily. He pulled her hair back from her neck, having caught a glimpse of something he hoped wasn't what he thought it was. "Completely threw him for a loop when I came back. I wish you could have seen his face."

Spike did too. Then he could have smashed it in a few times. Ripped a few limbs off for daring to touch his girl. The ancient vamp had it coming and a lot more too.

"He bit you." He fingered the mark on her neck causing her to shudder.

She nodded regretfully. "But he just took a bit." It was almost cute how after all she had been through that night she was the one reassuring him.

"He bit you." He was fixated on that part. Someone other than him had touched her. Had bit her. Had drunk her blood. And then killed her. A crime if there ever was one. Spike almost wished The Master wasn't dust so that he could have the pleasure of doing him in himself. Family or not, Spike would show him who belonged to who. She belonged to him, no one else should know the pleasure of touching her, the sweet ambrosia of her blood. He would have shown no mercy. The wanker didn't deserve it.

He ran his fingers over the mark again, unable to force his eyes away from the sight. "Let me fix it for you," he whispered. Spike hoped she would let him. He couldn't stand knowing the fact that someone had marked her, someone so unworthy of doing so, someone who wasn't him. It tore him up inside, angered and saddened him at the same time to know that he wasn't the first, that he wasn't the only one.

She nodded. She could sense how important it was to him.

He stepped behind her, peppering her neck with soft kisses. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Replace The Master's mark with his own, let the world know exactly who the girl in front of him belonged to.

Spike knew there was the chance that it wouldn't work. Feared it even. Maybe his marks wouldn't penetrate her flesh or it would fade. Who knew what the effect of a dream bite could be. And then there was the chance, and the greater chance in his opinion, that the marks did stick. She could be just giving in to make him feel better, he had been kind of whiny earlier. She might not understand the effects, the feelings, the meaning that went behind vampire bites. It was a process so richly complicated that not many outside the vampire community understood it. And . . .

He was over thinking this way to much. He asked, she agreed, it was her own sodding fault if she didn't like the results. Besides if she was still in denial, maybe this'll be her big, flashy clue.

He was evil. Take. Want. Have. Meaning she was lucky she even had the chance to be asked permission.

He sunk his fangs into her neck, took a sip of her blood, heavenly blood might he add, and then caressed the new wound gently with his tongue to seal it. He didn't risk lingering. His emotions and senses were already magnified within this world, that he feared loss of control. He didn't want to risk hurting her, accidently or otherwise. Quick and painless with no risks. She had already been through enough that night.

He really needed to stop thinking so much. She was pressed against him, her warmth engulfing him, her eyes closed in content. He hadn't been wrong. She had wanted it.

"All better?"

"Much," she replied happily. She was happy. He had made her happy. That was enough for him.

Buffy hung up the phone. Willow was on her way over. It was time for a girl talk with her best friend. A different perspective. She just hoped it wasn't a mistake.

She was as nervous as hell.

She should have expected it That morning, when she woke up, she fingered the bite mark on her neck, just as she had done the night previous before going to sleep. Then she had been filled with a sense of dread. And now? Now it was like a sense of peace washed over her. Panic filled her as she tried to figure out what that might mean. She touched the mark a third time, and once again that peaceful feeling washed over her.

It left no doubt in her mind that somehow, William's bite had replaced the Master's.

Buffy hated to think how it was possible. Think of what else was possible. Because in all honesty she had no clue. It could be a set up, each night she could be walking into a death trap and not know it. It didn't feel like she was, but as much as she hated to think it, she couldn't deny the possibility.

She didn't understand what it meant. How it happened. What the consequences would be.

She was proud to bear his mark. It meant something, something really important. It was important to William, and that made it important to her.

It was also another glaring reminder of what he was. A reminder of the dreams that she wanted to be nothing more than dreams.

She was confused. She knew it was a big deal, but she didn't feel like it was. Didn't feel like it should be.

She needed to tell someone. And the only person she could trust was Willow. She was the only one Buffy knew that wouldn't be judgmental. Wouldn't frown down on her, but would just look at it from a fresh perspective. Offer her advice, tell her what she thought, maybe even what to do.

At least that was what she hoped would happen.

She couldn't think straight, her head and thoughts went in nothing but dizzy circles whenever she thought about it. So she needed someone else to do the thinking for her. Needed someone to make things clear. Or maybe just someone to listen to her as she made the attempt to organize her thoughts.

Basically she needed to borrow Willow's ear for the afternoon.

"What's the big?" asked Willow and Buffy suddenly noticed that she was in the room.

Thank god for best friends.

Shutting the door behind the red head, she ushered her to the bed and sat beside her. "I need to tell you something," said Buffy seriously.

Willow looked nervous. "Is everything okay. You're not going to die again are you? You would think you  
would get a break in between prophecies. Unless you have a fatal disease. Oh my gush, you don't do you? And I'm rambling aren't I?"

"A bit. But no, no, nothing like that," assured Buffy. Deciding that physical evidence was always a plus she pulled her hair from her neck. She was pretty sure it would get Willow's mind off her death and onto something a little less bad. "What do you think this is?"

"The place where the Master bit you," guessed Willow, she looked confused. "Oh ew, it's not infected is it. Are you turning into a Vampire?"

"This isn't the Master's bite, Wills."

Willow scrunched her nose in what looked like more confusion. Not that Buffy blamed her, she was over her head with the confusion. "Another vamp got you. Did you tell Giles?"

"I can't. You can't." Buffy focused her eyes on Willow's, intent on making sure she was understood.  
"What I tell you can't leave this room. Not a peep, Willow."

"Cross my heart."

"Not a word."

"I promise Buffy, not a word," said the red head seriously. "Now tell me. You're scaring me."

"I have these dreams. . ."

"Slayer dreams?"

"I don't know. Maybe," said Buffy. "They started after I was called, so they're probably related. They're definitely more than dreams though."

"But you don't think they're visions?"

"No." She paused and took a deep breath. She could tell she had Willow's full attention. She wanted to trust her with this. But she was still nervous. This was something so deeply personal that a part of her wanted to keep it that way, keep it in the Grove that existed only in her mind, never allowing it see the light of the real world. There it was safe, they were safe, she was safe. But she knew that she needed to tell someone else, and so she plunged on before she lost her nerve completely. "It's always the same place. A clearing in the middle of the woods. And there's a vampire. . ."

"Angel?" questioned Willow with a teasing smile.

"Ewww, no." Buffy shuddered. "Someone else."

"Okay then. Does he try to kill you? Fight you? The usual vampire stuff."

Buffy shook her head. Willow wasn't getting it and she had a feeling she wasn't going to. But she continued on, she needed to get this off her chest. "No, we usually just talk about things."

"I don't understand," stated Willow.

"They have an affect on me," admitted Buffy. "They make me happy. Other guys that aren't him don't do  
it for me, just the thought makes me feel guilty."

"You're crushing on a dream guy?" Willow questioned, she had that look that said that's clearly insane. Buffy hated that look more than anything.

"That's the thing Willow. He's not a dream guy. This bite is his, not the Master's."

"Buffy. . ."

"No. No. I get that you think it's crazy." Willow raised her eyebrow. "But last night I touched it, and this cold feeling engulfed me. Nothing but dread. But this morning when I touched the mark again, it was the opposite. Peace and warmth, you know. And last night, in my dream, William bit me, over the Master's mark. How can you possibly explain that?"

Willow wasn't buying it. She didn't understand. She had a look of sympathy and sorrow on her face, that clearly said everything is going to be okay, I'll get you through this. Only she couldn't, because no matter what Buffy was going to say, Willow wasn't going to believe her. She had already made the decision not to the moment it got weird. It defied the logic that Willow liked to cling to.

How could she have been so stupid. She should have known. Buffy had made a mistake, and she had to figure out what the possible repercussions might be.

"By what you were feeling at the time, Buffy," tried Willow, who always had to be logical. "Maybe you wanted so badly for yourself to be rid of any reminder of the Master that you fabricated this dream so you could feel better when you looked at it."

"And everything else," countered Buffy, desperate to prove her wrong, even though she had accepted that now there was no changing Willow's mind. They had gotten past that point, Willow already had a theory and everything. But she had to try, had to make the attempt to correct her error and regain her footing.

She had so desperately wanted someone that would just listen. Listen. That was all.

"Maybe it's a way to protect yourself Buffy. A way for your body to rejuvenate, and in the end you get what you need, a good feeling, a good night's sleep, and less possible chance of getting hurt by creating this thing in your head that's perfectly real to you. You go through so much, Buffy, it could just be your body subconsciously playing hero for you while you go out and do it for everyone else."

It was a good theory. Made a lot of sense, she had to give her that. But Buffy felt it deep in her bones that it was real, had known it for awhile. But like Willow was now, she had played the part of denial girl. Bottom line the feelings coursing through her, the physical presence he provided, it left any other possible explanation in the dust.

"I'm not crazy, Willow."

"And I'm not saying that," assured the red head. "The mind works in mysterious ways, it's complex."

Buffy suddenly felt angry. She wanted to yell at Willow, wanted to knock her head into the wall and tell her she knew what was going on in her head and that the crap Willow had just sprouted wasn't it. Wanted to make Willow understand, see things her way. But Buffy knew she couldn't, she had already let her big secret out of the bag and been shot down. She couldn't risk exposing herself more, she knew it would only make the situation worse in Willow's eyes; and then she might decide to go to someone else. Something that could definitely not happen.

Perhaps a calmer approach. One last try, she wanted so desperately for her friend to believe her. Because if they didn't it left her that much more vulnerable. It opened up the possibility that she was crazy, that the thing she had taken to clinging so desperately to in the last few months was nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

And wasn't that what she had wanted? The dreams to be just that, dreams. That's what she told herself. The idea that she clung on to, if only to keep the situation that she knew to be complicated, to be pure and simple. Not real meant that she couldn't get hurt, not real meant only good things could come of it.

Then why was she trying to convince Willow that the dreams were real? Was it that she had finally come to the conclusion that this was actually what she wanted, that it was silly to pretend any longer. She had died the night before, for like a minute, but still. Had it gone any differently she could have been buried six feet under by now. As a Slayer, Buffy knew the true meaning of the words 'life is short.' Could she really sit back and allow these connection, this wonderful feeling of peace and contentment Spike provided slip away because she feared getting hurt?

She was the Slayer. She was supposed to be brave. She knew though, if she let him, he could break her heart to the point where it could never be put back together. Perhaps though, such a thing might be worth the risk.

That didn't make it any easier though. Far from it. Which was why she had wanted to talk to Willow. Why hadn't she thought of the fact that Willow would take a different perspective of the one Buffy wanted her to have?

"It's more than that, Willow. Every time I go into that clearing, every time I think about it I can feel it. It's so much more than that. He's mine Willow, he was made for me." Willow had clearly run out of words because she just looked at her with the same sad look. She wished she could have expressed what she felt better. Find the right words for the emotions coursing through her, but she didn't understand them, not as much as she would like. And she knew that was causing a failure in communication. She was to emotional, she wasn't thinking clearly. The dreams did that to her. "I know what it is. I don't understand it, and it confuses the hell out of me, but I know what it is. As my friend I had hoped you would get that, but I guess I was wrong."

"You just went through something horrible, Buffy. Something horrific," said Willow, her voice clearly sympathetic. Buffy felt the tears begin to form behind her eyes. She had failed. Willow wasn't going to understand. "You just need some rest, after that, I think then you'll see just how insane it sounds. You just need to distance yourself from it."

"Wills, you don't get it. . ."

"Rest. We'll talk about it later. Distance will be good for you right now," said the red head before letting herself out of the room.

It felt like betrayal. Like someone had stabbed her in the back, even though she knew it wasn't so. But it didn't change her mind any, just taught her that no one could be trusted.

She had learnt her lesson.


	7. Chapter Six

**Author's Notes**: Based off of Challenge 234 found at the Bloodshedverse. Much thanks to my lovely beta basiliothecat. Review Please!

**Chapter Six**

The Council was a very structured operation. An operation working towards the collective goal of protecting innocents from the deadly creatures of the night including vampires and other demons. With that they entrusted the job with the Slayer, a young girl trained by Watchers employed by the Council. And the Council ensures that everything goes according to the way needed. The protection of the human race was their goal, and they were willing to do what was needed to ensure that everything stayed on track.

Like any organization, they had their tricks and their secrets. Ways to ensure that what needed to go down, went down. It was especially important in the business of saving the world, and they saw no fault in doing so. When lives were at stake, one uses any means necessary while worrying about the possible repercussions later.

They also had their traditions. And for the first time one very important tradition appeared to be broken. There were now two Slayers, and everything had the potential to spiral out of balance at any time. Order was very important in nature. There was no telling how such an event could upset that order.

It was a delicate matter that had been discussed over and over again. Not that this wasn't without benefits. Naturally, two Slayers ensured that more ground was covered and more demons slayed.

There were also several questions left unanswered. Would the Slayer line pass through both of them now? Or was the existence of two Slayers only a temporary glitch in the long run? Would it weaken the line? Was the power that the deceased girl usually passed to the next in line some how cut in half? Or was it equally the same as it was before?

Rupert Giles had reported that Miss Summers, his charge, had felt significantly more powerful after waking from her brief demise. The Council knew what that meant, knew the possible ramifications. The part that made her the Slayer, was more prominent.

She was stronger. She was more of a threat. The careful balance that had been created was shifting, and it needed to be closely monitored. If not, the effects could be catastrophic.

"Mr. Travers," came the voice of his secretary through the intercom. "You have a visitor. They say that it's urgent."

Quentin sighed. It always was. "Send them in."

"What is it?" he asked when he heard they had entered the room, he didn't even bother to lift his head from his paperwork.

"It's happening. A Slayer is about to find their mate."

Quentin looked up in alarm, but when he did they were already gone, leaving Travers alone to contemplate this breaking development.

One thing was for certain, the carefully selected balance had once again been destroyed.

It had been a couple days since Buffy had told Willow about the dreams. Willow hadn't brought the subject up since except in the form of concerned looks and Buffy had refused to even mention it.

No one was going to understand. She got that now.

It didn't lessen her curiosity however. She knew with perfect clarity that there was something more to these 'dreams' than meets the eye. The effects were now both emotional and physical, making them that much more a serious matter, that much more powerful. And while she was almost positive her life wasn't in any near danger, her slayer side still needed to find answers. Which was why she was currently sitting in the library reading a book on vampire bites behind the guise of her magazine.

It seemed like just as good a place to start. Plus it had been the easiest to find. And seeing as research wasn't exactly her thing, she figured she'd start with easy and work her way up. Baby steps.

"Buffy this is a very important matter. You will be leaving the Hellmouth for an extended period of time. Without a guardian what little progress has been made will be destroyed and likely retaliate ten fold."

She looked at him with blank eyes and popped her gum.

"Now I realize that visiting your father is very important. . ."

"Well duh, Giles. It doesn't happen that often," said Buffy. "Really. Not often."

"And I understand. But you have a very important obligation and I would hate for what progress you've made to be destroyed."

"No big, Giles. I can handle it. Besides we don't have to worry about another Apocalypse for a while yet, so it's not like you'll be under this big strain while I'm out. It's all good."

She turned the page. Could they make the print any smaller. Combine that with the boriness of the dribble they printed and she was about ready to lose her mind.

Basically vampires liked biting. A lot. Something that any dummy could tell you.

They also had several different types of bites. Different rituals. Different meanings behind their bites. It wasn't exactly what she was looking for, in other words, dream bites and if they were possible, but it was on her way to proving her theory right. That there was something more behind it than a vampire just taking a piece out of you.

If they were going to do that, wouldn't they just kill you?

Oh she was so confused. Really, who knew that vampires could be so complicated.

She could just ask William of course. But she didn't really want to raise his suspicions or anything. There was still the small possibility that he had no clue that these were more than your average dreams. Meaning there was no need to complicate the situation just yet, she just had to do a little extra work on her part.

She would figure it out, and perhaps prove Willow wrong. She was a little bitter about the red head not believing her. Willow was smart, but that didn't always mean she was right. And Buffy certainly wasn't as dumb as people may think she was. She had her moments, but a lot of it was just for show. Plus sometimes it really annoyed Giles. And annoying Giles is always guaranteed a laugh.

"Hey Buff, we got a situation outside," announced Xander from the library doors. Did they have nothing better to do then sit back and give her more work.

Wondering what could possibly be wrong this time, Buffy sighed and put her book down. Operation prove Willow wrong and me right would have to wait till another day. For now duty called.

"We'll talk about this later, kay Giles," shouted Buffy as she ran out the door, pulling her stake from her pocket as she did so.

Giles sighed. It was so difficult to get through to that girl. And look, once again she left a mess on the table for him to clean up. Some trendy teen magazine that she hid behind as she pretended to listen to him as he tried to explain the importance of her remaining on the Hellmouth.

Not that he wanted to keep her from visiting her father per say. Such visits were strongly encouraged. But to leave for such an extended period of time was risky, and she needed to understand the consequences.

Giles picked up the magazine, quickly discovering that it was not a tabloid but an actual book. A rare occurrence, usually she slipped magazine inside the book while she pretended to research, not the other way around. She couldn't possibly think that he would scold her for attempting to expand her knowledge.

Vampire bites.

Wait. What? He reread the chapter title thinking that perhaps he misread, but nope, upon inspection it was still the same. Why on earth would she be studying such a subject matter. She had never shown such an interest before. Even after the Master had bitten her she had remained uninterested as he attempted to explain that since she had killed the Master the bite on her neck would leave no ill side effects.

So what was she doing now, days later, looking into it? And why hadn't she mentioned something to him earlier if she had questions? She hated having to study if she could simply ask for the answer.

Perhaps there was something he overlooked, and she simply didn't wish to bother him with the matter. But that was absurd, completely unlike Buffy.

No. He would put it to the back of his mind so he could ask her about it later. There was probably a simple explanation. For now he had to make a call to the Council. Travers had been quite adamant when he left the message on his answering machine to call him back as soon as possible.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Author's Notes:** Some dialogue from the episode 2x01 - When She was Bad written and directed by Joss Whedon; some out of the original context. Thanks to basiliothecat for the edit.

**Chapter Seven**

It was a fairly simple move considering that Drusilla left, seemingly weeks ago. Slipped through the cracks without even a moments notice for the one person she had spent over a hundred years with. She had been angry with him, he remembered that. Something about being covered in sunshine, and the stars whispering bad things in her ears. She had said Miss Edith frowned on him.

Spike hadn't thought she would actually leave, though. There were times when she would stay out all night, till just before dawn while he paced the floor wondering whether it would be worth the risk to go out and look for her, or if he would simply find dust in the wind. Always he would slam the door behind him as he strode into the night worried that he would find her broken but instead always finding her twirling amongst the trees or enjoying the screams of one of her victims. He could never stay angry with her, and so simply led her home gently to keep her from the dangerous sun, cursing inwardly all the way.

This was the first time he had not gone looking for her, only this time because he knew he had no desire to find her. He simply waited, if she wanted, Dru would come home on her own. He should be worried, it wasn't often that Dru was left to fend for herself. She was still alive though, could feel her through the faint connection, and so for now he had no reason to feel guilty. She had chosen to leave in a huff, he hadn't kicked her out, didn't even leave, he wasn't responsible. She wasn't his responsibility anymore.

Spike had done his fair share, and in return got nothing.

He waited anyway. A few weeks, maybe a month, he wasn't really sure, the counting drove him round the bend. All he really wanted to do his was hop into the car and drive until he found his Slayer. But he waited because it was the right thing to do. Drusilla may not have done anything for him recently, but she had given him the most important thing of all: life. Without her, he would have died long ago, a pathetic man who did nothing but write bloody awful poetry. Without her, he would have never come across his sweet Golden Girl.

For years he had been in love with his Dark Princess, devoting his unlife to taking care of her every desire, but that was no longer so. Spike didn't know when the change happened, when his feelings for her shifted from pure love and devotion to simple obligation, but they had. And he couldn't force himself to care. A part of him would always love Drusilla, would always care for her, but he knew now what he thought was soul mates was a mere path to reaching his own destiny. Their time had come to an end. He had realized that from the very first dream, Drusilla simply had the courage to act on it first.

He had waited, but he was done with that now. He needed answers, something to explain the changes in the past year, why he was having these dreams and why they affected him so. And he wanted to find Buffy, see her face, touch her skin, and he wanted to do it in reality. And to do that he would have to go out and find the answers, search for the information he had avoided trying to find. And so he closed the door to the run down house behind him, saying good bye to Drusilla and the life of death and bloodshed that he had so eagerly been a part of just a few months ago. It was time to start anew.

L.A, was great and all, the lack of a hellmouth being one very obvious reason why, but a part of her had seriously missed Sunnydale. She had missed her mom, her friends, even Giles and his stuffy British attitude. It surprised her how much things had changed since she had first arrived here last September. Sure she was thrust back into the slaying against her will, but even that turned out okay in the end seeing as she acquired some cool friends, and of course, William. She still wished for the normal life in the normal town, but she had also accepted her duty , embracing it with open arms. There was no escaping it.

Her sacred duty had brought her William. That alone made it worth it.

She had been a bit freaked out when the fact that she had died finally sunk in. She had died, as in, she been no longer of the living. That was huge even if it had been only for a minute. Everything with William and his freaky dream bite had happened so fast that she had glossed over the Master part of the evening and straight to the bitey part.

It had eventually hit her though, full force while she was in the grove with William and they had taken to casually discussing something that had to do with kittens when somehow her thoughts took a dark turn and the horrible fact of her brief, but very real death hit her full force. After completely embarrassing herself by sobbing like a baby in his arms, they had decided that ignoring what had happened that night wasn't doing anyone much good and so they started to talk it out, mostly William listening as she poured her heart out about her most recent death to her worries about dying young and everything she would never get to do. She could tell that often William had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting his thoughts, but he had been a good listener, whispering reassuring words in all the right places. Buffy wasn't quite sure she would have been able to survive the summer if it hadn't been for him. He was her rock.

"Hey Buffy, you're back," announced Willow, spotting her in the courtyard.

"Yup, yesterday afternoon. Dad dropped me off," said Buffy happily, her eyes never quite meeting Willow's. Even after two months she still hadn't quite forgotten her friends semi-betrayal. "So how was your summer?"

"Boring, very slow, very few vampires," supplied Xander.

"Oh see, Giles was wrong," said Buffy.

"There's one for the record books."

"So, what about you? How was your summer? Did you slay anything?" Xander questioned rapidly.

"No. Uh, just hung out, partied some, shopping was also a major theme. Got shoes, lots of cool shoes," said Buffy, nodding some as she did so, remembering how her father had basically bribed with money and his credit cards so she would be out of the house so he could do whatever he did that Buffy didn't like to mention. Being blissfully unaware, or pretending to be, was of the good.

"A necessary accessary," agreed Willow.

Xander's attention had turned to Buffy's hair, a dreamy look gracing his face. A look that made Buffy feel very uncomfortable. She had hoped Xander would have gotten over his crush by now. After all, she made it perfectly clear that she wasn't interested last Spring. At least she hoped she had. "I like your hair." Buffy replied with a girlish giggle not sure how else to react, before deciding a change of subject was in order. "So, how did you guys fare? Did you have any fun without me?"

"No."

"Yes!"

"What were you doing, Wills?" questioned Xander with a raised brow. "Uh, our summer was kinda yawn worthy. Our biggest excitement was burying the Master."

"That's right, you missed it." Willow added. "Giles buried the bones and we poured holy water and we got to wear robes."

"Very intense. You shoulda been."

"Ugh, no thank you," said Buffy, scrunching her nose. The farther away she was from the Master or his bones the better.

"So, have you been sleeping well?" Willow asked suddenly with a vague attempt to keep her tone casual.

"You weren't sleeping?" asked a concerned Xander.

"No, I was sleeping," assured Buffy. "Very well in fact. Lot's of nice dreams."

Perhaps Willow would get the point then.

"Dreams are meaningful."

"Me and Buffy just had a discussion on that," said the red head. Buffy glared at her. What the hell was she doing?

"Really?" questioned Xander, intrigued. "Did it involve any nakedness?"

Buffy gave the boy a disgusted look, who in turn just shrugged innocently. Willow glanced nervously at Buffy. "We were trying to analyze a dream I had. She thought the same thing. But dreams are just dreams, I think."

"Slayer dreams so prove that theory wrong."

"You gotta have the power."

"Which I do. Go me," cheered Buffy, punching the air.

"I still go with the theory that all dreams are with the meaningful," stated Xander.

"Go us. Finding the hidden meaning behind those pesky night visions," said Buffy, slapping Xander's hand in a high five. Not wanting to prolong the discussion more than she had to and risk the spilling of her secret, the blonde decided that it was probably time that she had hightailed it out of there. "Well, I'm gonna hit the library."

"Library?"

"Yeah. You know. Giles, he's my watcher. I should check in." And make with the research added the Slayer silently as she bid her friends goodbye.

It was very difficult to find the information she needed with Giles constantly hanging in the library. Didn't he have anything better to do? He happened to be very observant when it came to his books and the touching of. Checking out said books was probably not an option. Which left stealing, and Buffy was under the impression that she already had a big enough track record that she didn't need to add that particular offense to it.

She would have to think about it. Maybe come up with a crafty plan. For now she had decided that it was time to make with the normal, and hang out with her friends at the Bronze.

She just had to get rid of her stalker first.

"Hi," she said to the spot where she was pretty sure Angel was hiding.

"Hi," greeted the vampire as he stepped from the shadows.

Buffy raised her eyebrow. "So, is there danger at the Bronze? Should I beware?"

"I can't help thinking I've done something to make you angry. And that bothers me more than I'd like," Angel admitted.

"I'm not angry." Annoyed maybe. "I don't know where that comes from."

"What are you afraid of? Me? Us?"

Us? This guy must think an awful lot of himself. Sure, he's fairly good looking, no where near William, but fair enough. Nice as well, a little on the broody side, but he was nice. Could do with the less of the cryptic, either tell the full story or don't bother telling the beginning was her motto. But an us? That didn't exist. And Buffy thought she had been pretty clear on that. Maybe she was turning soft?

Perhaps it was time to fix that.

"Could you contemplate getting over yourself for a second? There's no 'us'. Look, Angel, I'm sorry if I was supposed to spend the summer mooning over you, but I didn't."

There nice and firm, good for the necessary clearing of messages into thick skulls. Angel however was giving her an odd look, almost as if she had grown a second head.

"What? Is there something on my face?" she patted. Nothing there from what she could tell.

"Were you hanging with any vampires in L.A.?" he asked suddenly.

"I slayed some, if that's what you mean." Okay. Make with the crazy.

"No. Not slaying." He looked confused as he glanced at her, almost as if he was trying to figure out some mystery. "Did you spend any time with anyone in particular? Anyone named Spike?"

"Ah, no, why would I do that?" retorted the Slayer. Especially if he had a name like Spike. That just screamed I'm a punk, in a gang, and a killer. "Oh my god are you smelling me?"

"It's just. ."

Buffy took a step back and quickly cut him off. She really did not want to hear any sort of explanation he may or may not have. "It's disgusting is what it is. Don't do it again." She gave him a pointed look, and made to walk into the Bronze, leaving the souled Vampire behind her. The nerve of him. Smelling her. Where does he have the right.

Welcome to Sunnydale.

Spike slammed on his breaks. Bingo. Home of the active Hellmouth, and from the information he had gathered from two careless vampires, the home of the Slayer, his Slayer. "Home. Sweet. Home." He smirked and raised a cigarette to his lips. Things were about to get interesting and he had a front row seat. He couldn't wait.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: Based off challenge #234 at the bloodshedverse. Some dialogue taken from the episode 2x03 SchoolHard, which was written by David Greenwalt and directed by John Kretchmer. Thanks to my beta basiliothecat for the edit. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

** Chapter Eight**

**School Hard **

It was nearing October and already Buffy had crushed the Master's bones to teeny-tiny pieces and foiled a plot for the making of the Perfect girl. Guys needed to get over themselves, never gonna happen, nobody's perfect, and a floozy of a model is certainly going to be far from it. Puhlease.

Now though she had to face the horrifying task of Synder and his threats of possible expulsion if she didn't pull off the most perfect Back to School Night ever. Honestly you make one teeny tiny mistake and suddenly you're the worst person in the world. Come on she saved the world, she can't be bothered by the little things. She did good. That should be enough. She shouldn't even have to make with the learning, it wasn't like it mattered much.

Hmmm, maybe Synder was evil.

Add to that the fact that Willow thought she was a tad on the north side of crazy, and Angel trying to sniff her every chance he got, and well you had a party minus the pretty dreams.

Really. All this pressure. About to crack. Hello.

"Buffy, is there anything you wish to discuss?"

Oh, and let's not forget Giles' new habit of asking personal questions. It was so un-British of him.

"The possibility of Snyder being a demon?"

Giles made a face. "Uh, no. I was actually referring to you're, ah, new reading preferences."

"Oh." So he noticed that. Dratted.

"It's just you've never shown such an interest before. I'm just curious why the sudden change of heart." He picked up the book, "in, ah, vampire biting rituals?"

"Oh. Um, this Vampire, really ugly, said he wanted to turn me. I wanted to see if it was possible."

And the winner for the lamest excuse possible goes to Buffy Summers. Congratulations.

"It is actually a very dangerous thing to turn a Slayer," said Giles, oblivious to his charge's lie. "Her power's increase significantly, she's said to turn into a deadly force. Or more so."

"Oh. Makes sense," shrugged Buffy, simply happy that she had gotten away with the possibility of more probing questions.

"It does?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well good then." Giles nodded and then removed his glasses to clean them. Buffy rolled her eyes. "We're thinking of heading to the Bronze tonight. Okay?"

Not that she should have to ask for his permission or anything, she thought as he mumbled a vague whatever.

He had felt her the moment he had walked in the door, his eyes instantly narrowing in on her. It was the pull, telling him what he knew to be his.

She was beautiful.

Her hair shimmered beneath the lights, her clothes clinging tightly to her body. Her hips swayed

seductively to the music, oblivious to everything around her expect the music and her geeky friends who didn't know the first thing to keeping a beat. He could feel her body calling to his without her knowing it. He could feel the power radiating from her, and he wanted nothing more than to slide in behind her and have her move like that against him. Only him.

Had to work up to that though, the girl was too unpredictable, didn't always think before she acted. Two peas in a pod they were.

But he was tired of waiting. He had done enough of that for the past few weeks. Getting a nice place to stay and fixing it up real good, wouldn't do if his girl wasn't impressed. He even took care of that anointed thing, and then sat back and worried about the chit's reaction. Would she accept him or not? What was going to happen when they came face to face? Would it have really been worth going all those extra miles? Or would it be just another mess like his relationship with Drusilla had been?

Well, no more of that. Couldn't just sit back and wonder. The pull was strong now, there was no going back, even she would start to feel it soon. It would be impossible to ignore for the both of them. And he wanted it. Wanted her. No turning back, it was time.

"Go get something to eat!" He ordered a minion, his eyes never leaving Buffy. Stepping nearer to the area, Spike disguised his voice, careful not to give himself away. Not yet. He didn't want their first confrontation to be in a crowded club, that just wouldn't do. "Where's the phone? I need to call the police. There's some big guy out there trying to bite somebody."

Spike smiled as he watched her run to her duty. He didn't hesitate to follow her outside.

"Slayer!"

"Slayee."

He watched her aim a kick to the face before being slammed into a metal door only moments later. He resisted the urge to help, knowing that it would only do more harm than good.

"Get her out of here," she yelled to her friends who had just run out the door. She began punching the vampire repeatedly. "And a stake would be nice."

The boy disappeared inside and the girl sent the woman running. The Slayer punched the vampire minion in the face before taking a nasty blow herself, causing her to fall to the ground. Spike winced in sympathy.

"I don't need to wait for St. Vigeous. You're mine."

The vampire bent down to go in for the final blow, and if Spike had been a fledging himself he would have thought that the idiot had won. But he wasn't at all surprised to see her retaliate with a kick aimed right at the enemies face, causing him to stumble backwards. 'Atta girl.

"Spike! Gimme a hand!"

Stupid minion. Spike watched her look over her shoulder with a frown. He stepped further into the shadows. It wasn't time yet.

"Buffy!"

She was standing alone now. She must have dusted the Vampire in his brief distraction. He couldn't help the smile that spread on his face. It had been nice to see her in action, be on the outside looking in for a change. She really was a brilliant Slayer. He almost loved the idea of having the pleasure of taking the final dance with her. That wouldn't do though, he could think of other things he would much rather know the pleasure of doing with her. Killing her was not on the list.

Spike stepped from the shadows, clapping his hands in a slow pattern as he did so. The show really did deserve a hand. "Nice work, luv."

He watched her head snap up at the sound of his voice. Good. She recognized him. Her mouth was open accompanying the look of shock gracing her features. Her expression changed from wonder to surprise, to fear, then anger, and than back to shock all in a matter of seconds. She closed her mouth and then opened it again, doing that little process a few more times. He could hear her heart beating fast with nerves, her fear and excitement perfumed the air.

The clutch her hand had on the stake grew tighter and tighter with each passing moment. Finally she took a step forward, before the look of fear returned. He resisted the urge to open his arms for her to run into, or to just step up to her and pull her them himself. It was her move now, had to see if she would trust him or treat him like any other vamp despite their history. Wouldn't do to make a hasty move and end up dust on the ground because of an equally hasty decision. There was no telling with his girl.

And sure enough she dropped the stake and ran the other way, never taking the time to look back.

Now he was left here with the two buffoons that she called friends. Bloody mess this turned out to be. It could have been worse though, she could have initiated an attack.

"Has she ever done that before?" asked the boy, clearly terrified. Spike thought with glee the girlish scream the boy would probably omit if he took even a step closer. It made the demon hungry for his blood, but the thought of Buffy and how she would react to such a thing held him back.

It had been so long since his last real kill. Pathetic really.

"She's never done that before," answered the red head. The pair began to start walking backwards, thinking it a clever escape.

The boy went to pick up the stake, and held it out in front of him. "We'll just be going now." They turned around and ran, not noticing that he never even tried to follow.

Spike paid them no further attention as he took a giant breath and a whiff of the air before following Buffy's scent. He had a girl to catch.


	10. Chapter Nine

Buffy felt like she couldn't breath. It had all happened so fast. One minute some vampire was dust and the next William was standing in front of her.

And had he been mocking her? It had certainly felt like it. He had better not have been. She could so totally kick his ass. Probably. With good reason.

Was this the business he had mentioned before? Had he come to Sunnydale, for what? To see her? To shove it in her face? She didn't understand.

He had known all along. He had known about the dreams, about her, and he never even admitted it. Albeit neither did she, but she was planning on it. Okay, maybe not so much. But it certainly seemed like he had no plans to do so in the near future either. Just sit back and laugh as she was completely blind sided by his appearance in the alleyway. And boy did he look good. Even better in person. Sexiest thing she had ever seen, she'd wager.

And she was completely off topic. Anger. Channeling anger. He had lied to her. A capital offense. And while it was kind of nice, okay great, to see him, that didn't change the fact that he could have told her

so she wasn't completely flabbergasted and made to look the fool.

Buffy really wished he would have told her. If she had known, and William had known then think of all that time that wouldn't have been wasted.

Unless he wasn't here to see her. Maybe he wanted to kill her. Maybe he was some evil vampire that used her for the past year by means of some spell to get on her good side and then hack her off. What then?

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, and all the emotions swirling around inside her were really, in fact, just one sided. Maybe the living nightmare she had gone through by hands of that little boy was going to come true after all. Maybe William really did hate her. Hate her enough to kill her.

She trusted him though, could feel it in her gut that he didn't want to hurt her. She knew he didn't, after all the things he told her and everything she had shared with him, she knew she could trust him. Maybe it was stupid mistake to do so, but why should him suddenly turning up in her life change that? It was a hell of a situation, and not at all like how she pictured their first meeting to go. But he was there, and she really wanted to trust him.

Buffy suddenly felt like crying. She bit her lip. She couldn't think about this. It was too hard. There were too many possibilities, none of which would be resolved until she confronted him. Something they couldn't do tonight.

William was here. He was real. Really real. She couldn't help but smile as she climbed into bed and faced the wall.

William was real. The dreams had finally become a reality. For now, that was all she needed to know, she would worry about the rest later.

Tap.

She had barely closed her eyes and someone was already hammering to wake her up.

Tap.

She was tired and didn't want to get up. Go away.

Tap.

Fine. She turned over and saw the source.

William was at the window.

What did he do? Follow her? Add Stalker to that list.

"Go away," she hissed. She wasn't ready to face him just yet She needed to sleep on it, figure out how to handle this situation. If he was safe or just another vampire that she had to eliminate. She so hoped that it didn't turn out to be the latter, she wasn't sure that she could actually take him out if it ever came to that. The thought of him as dust made her sick, physically ill.

She watched him shrug. "No."

She didn't know what to make of this. She wasn't ready yet. She didn't how to deal, to be so emotionally involved in the situation, in a person that she technically never met was seriously stressing her out. She had no idea how to react to him. Oh, she had imagined the moment so many times, and it always turned out with a happy ending, but now, none of those seemed plausible. She wanted nothing more than to run and protect herself, just in case. Too much was at risk here, and yet all logic out the window, she wanted nothing more but rush to him and kiss him senseless.

Was that wrong of her?

Buffy opened the window. "What do you want?" she whispered.

"Hi." Buffy stared at him, unsure how to respond. "Can I come in?"

"Are you crazy?"

"Well, apparently you seem to think so." Spike sighed and shifted on the roof. "I'll just stay out here then, yeah?"

"Yes." It was a good thing, the barrier. Buffy wasn't sure what she would do without the distance between the two of them.. And at this time she was pretty sure the thing they needed to do was talk. And just talking, nothing else, no touching of any kind. As nice as it would be, it just couldn't be done. Concentrating was the key at the moment, and Buffy doubted that would happen even with just the slightest hint of skin against skin. "Why are you here?"

"Well I heard it was where the Slayer lives," replied William. He spread his arms. "And look. I was right."

"So you knew?"

"So did you."

"I didn't know you knew."

"You still knew."

"You knew, I knew?" Buffy accused.

"Well yeah."

"Ass."

A tense moment passed, and the pair just stared at the other. "What's happening? How is any of this possible?"

"Don't know, pet," admitted the vampire. "That's why I'm here. Thought we could figure it out."

"A lot of weird stuff happened," said Buffy, pulling her hair back. "I'm positive that's your bite. Willow didn't believe me. But I could feel it. It felt different when I touched it. And I think Angel smelled you on me. You go by Spike, right?"

She bit her lip to keep herself from continuing her rambling in her nervous state. The need to talk was overwhelming, and was probably making her look like some sort of an idiot. Exactly the thing she needed at the moment, he probably already thought she was some big wuss for running away.

Spike nodded. "Peaches smelled you?"

It figured that would be the one thing he picked up on. "It was gross."

"Drusilla sensed something too, I think," he said casually. "She has visions, she sees things. Doesn't make any bloody sense most of the time, but I think she knew something."

"Drusilla?"

"I told you 'bout her remember? She's my sire."

"Oh. Right." He had mentioned her before, she remembered that now, she probably just pushed the unpleasant thought of her from her memory. Buffy paused for a second. "This is weird."

Spike smirked. "Would you rather I go to sleep?"

"I don't think that'll help," said Buffy. With the dreams she could pretend, in reality she wouldn't be allowed to forget. As the Slayer, she couldn't turn a blind eye to the situation, or else something bad could happen. "Where are you staying?"

"Got myself a crypt. Oh and I took care of the annoying one."

Buffy scrunched her nose in confusion. "Huh?"

"That little vamp kid. Anointed and some such rot."

A large smile graced her face, she made to hug him but then pulled back, remembering the physical and mental barrier they put into play. "You did. Oh wow. Thank you. Wait till I tell Giles that he's history. One less lecture a day I'll have to listen to."

Spike sat up a little straighter and did his best not to look pleased. "Yeah, well, like I said he was annoying. That Watcher guy of yours has books, yeah?"

"Well he is a Watcher."

"There might be something in those books of his, don't ya think?"

"Maybe. I've been looking through them, you know, making with the research. And it had Giles totally wigged. Had to make up some lame excuse to get him off my back?"

"Steal em," suggested Spike.

"I can't steal. I'm the Slayer. We're good people. Good people don't steal," retorted Buffy, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'll do it then. School library, yeah?"

"Creepy."

"Told me, remember," Spike reminded her. "Meet me in Restfield tomorrow night, around eight."

"You're leaving." She wasn't ready for him to go yet, he had just gotten here. His presence was so comforting, she didn't want to lose that. Any fears that she had before, simply flew out the window when they had got to talking, falling back into their usual routine type banter. It should have been a concern, but he just had a way of making everything better. She couldn't help but trust him

Was she in a mess of trouble or what?

"None of that. You need your rest, pet. Big day and all."

"And you're not here to kill me?" she asked of him suddenly, in part for reassurance and the other to delay his departure just a tad longer.

"Couldn't if I tried," he said truthfully. She could see it in his eyes that he was being honest. She could just tell, as odd as it may sound.

"Really?'

"Yes."

She nodded. "That's good then." He raised his eyebrow. "I won't have to stake you."

"You think you can take me?"

"The student always surpasses the master," said Buffy. "Eventually."

"Don't think so fast, I got a few tricks up my sleeve, been around awhile."

"Pish. Slayer here."

"Vampire," he retorted with a smirk, before sobering quickly."Lessen your fears some?"

"I was that transparent?" she asked with concern.

"Yes," replied Spike. "But that might because I just know you oh so well."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He could be so annoyingly cocky sometimes. "Do not."

"Really? How's that fear of cowboys going for you?"

Buffy promptly blushed. "Shut up."

"But what if you run into a Vampire like cow boy? Whatever shall you do?" mocked Spike, pretending to faint.

"Goodbye William," she said forcefully.

"Now she kicks me out. Go figure."

"Goodbye."

"Going, going," he said, making for the edge of the roof to climb down the tree. "And Buffy?"

"Yes?"

"It's Spike," he corrected quietly. "Don't go by William anymore, might raise some suspicion."

"Alright."

"Good," said Spike with a nod before resuming his trek down the tree.

"Spike." The name felt foreign on her lips. He looked up in acknowledgment, and she struggled to find something to say. She finally opted for the truth. "I'm glad you came."

He gave her a smile. "Me too," he whispered, before jumping to the ground.

Buffy closed the window and climbed into bed with a smile on her face. She had fretted over nothing. There was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.


	11. Chapter Ten

Buffy had made a quick sweep of the other cemeteries before rounding in on Restfield with an extra bounce in her step. The only possible damper was the fresh grass stain that graced her cute pants that she had spent hours picking out earlier that evening so she would look perfect for the big meeting. She could get over that though.

"Buffy."

Well there was a definite downside.

"Angel."

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Buffy shrugged. It wouldn't do to ignore him, he might just follow her. And that would be very much of the bad. He might spot Spike, or smell him on her. Again. She took a step back, just to be safe. "I suppose. What about?"

"A situation has arisen," he said gravely. "My family is in town."

"Really? You kept track of them after all this time. How many great uncles would that make," asked Buffy with fake interest. "Will there be a reunion?"

"My Vampire family," he corrected.

Well duh. "Oh, like that Darla chick."

"Yes. This is Spike, my Grandchilde. He's. . ."

"Spike? The one you smelled on me?"

"Yes."

"Maybe I've met him then. What's he look like?"

"This is a very serious matter, Buffy. He's dangerous." He paused, and when she only gave him a look of annoyance, he plunged on. "He's killed two Slayers. He won't stop until he gets what he wants."

"And that would be?" Buffy was annoyed now, she hated when Angel did this, she felt like he was treating her like a helpless child. A vampire, was a vampire. They were all dangerous. They all wanted the Slayer dead. Spike just happened to be on her side. Not that she could tell him that.

"You dead." Ha. If only he knew.

"I can take care of myself."

"If Spike's here, that means his sire, Drusilla, won't be far behind. And she's just as deadly."

"Nice family you got there," said Buffy sarcastically.

"Their up to something. Spike is practically attached to Drusilla's hip, and has been since she sired him. The fact that they're not together can't be a good."

Buffy quickly decided she didn't much like this Drusilla girl, nope, not one bit. Object of Spike's affections for a hundred years but quite obviously emotionally scarring and abusive, and still quite enamored with a demon that was replaced by the vampire with a soul standing in front of her. Nope. Not much to like.

Was she jealous? Sure, she had been a big part of William's life, and he was once her willing slave. Anyone in her position would be jealous of such a presence. But did she feel threatened. Absolutely not, Spike had given her no reason to be, not that she had much to go on as of yet. But so far, it was all good.

She needed to get rid of him. She was already late for her meeting with Spike, and it wouldn't do for Angel to sense him, here, in the cemetery. Somebody might do something rash.

"I promise. I'll be careful."

He gave her a long, hard look. "Alright."

When he didn't leave, she asked, "Anything else?"

"Um. . . no," he said awkwardly. It was the never ending conversation, the one you wanted to end but couldn't without seeming rude or acting suspicious.

Take a hint and leave already. She had a guy to meet.

"Well I have to patrol. Vampires and all. So. . ."

"Right. I'll let you know if I hear anything more."

"Kay."

She watched him walk away, rolling her eyes at his receding back. When she saw that he was out of sight, she began looking around, anticipation and nerves building within her.

"Can't much take a hint, can he?"

8888888

If you're gonna rob a place, you better get the good stuff. You're lucky if you get one shot, and one should never assume you're going to get a second chance. Especially when dealing with someone from the Watcher's Council, who would take their collection quite seriously. So when Spike found himself within the library he didn't meander into the stacks, but into the private office of Rupert Giles which would hopefully contain a private stash of sorts.

It did. More specific, there were several old volumes and a few Watcher's diaries, which the vampire was quick to knick, replacing them with several similar looking books in the hopes that he wouldn't catch onto the ruse right away. If they needed any others, Buffy had an all access pass to the library, she would just have to be careful about it.

Spike closed the door behind him and began his trek to the graveyard in preparation for his meeting, his thoughts turning to the Slayer he had talked to just the night before, face to face for the first time.

It had gone better than he imagined it would. The only hindrance was the invisible barrier that stood between him and the window, that prevented him finding the comfort in her arms that would assure him that she was real and lessen the need to feel his skin against hers for the first time outside the dream. She had felt the same, in fact he had seemed better at hiding it.

They were drawn to each other for no explainable reason. Even the anger and fear she had felt towards him for whatever purpose quickly disappeared with just a few simple words of truth. And he had spoken the truth, he couldn't harm her, just the thought made him ill, made him physically and emotionally hurt. It was a battle what he felt towards her, the conflicting emotions, and what he wanted and knew he should want.

The pull, the bond that he knew was there had strengthened in her presence while weakening at the same time. Strengthening as the connection between them grew and began to solidify, and weakening as there was no longer a desire, or need really, to go out and find her, she was already there. He knew clearly what it was. but the question was how it had come into place when neither one of them had ever come across the other before. Unless he was misinterpreting it, the meaning behind it. Because such a pull was only experienced between mated vampires, bound together for eternity. Never had they initiated such a ritual and it was impossible to imitate especially without the consent or knowledge of the parties involved. So it couldn't be that, but it had to be something similar to invoke such strong feelings.

They only had the simple fact that it was somehow connected to the 'dreams' they shared. The question was how such a thing was even possible. It was what it always came down to.

". . .my family has come to town."

Spike doubled back recognizing the voice of his grandsire. It wouldn't do for him to sense him now especially seeing as he was already warning everyone under the sun about him. Stupid family. Always worked against you, never for you.

He watched the Slayer blatantly ignored his efforts to warn her, looking bored as Peaches tried to explain the possible dangers. Luckily she knew otherwise. He winced at the mention of Drusilla and his previous adoration of the chit, hoping that Buffy wouldn't buy the talk Angel was sprouting. She knew the basics of the relationship, but not enough where if he pushed hard enough Angel might still be able to push his view.

After that the conversation seemed to dwindle down, Angelus trying desperately to find a reason to stay and her pushing him to take the hint to leave, and finally he did. He watched her roll her eyes and then when he was positive that he had vacated the area he popped out of his hiding spot.

"Can't take a hint, can he?"

She jumped, surprised by his sudden appearance. "Don't do that."

Spike laughed. "You're the Slayer. Sense me." They began walking side by side, as he led the way to his Crypt that he had acquired shortly after dropping into town. "So what was that all about?" He asked, without really needing to.

"You," she replied, then gave him a quick punch in the shoulder. A quick and hard punch might he add. "You really killed two Slayers?"

"I told you that, luv. First thing." He had done it in the hopes of striking fear within her, thus giving them a reason to fight. Instead she stared at him a bit, almost as if she was waiting for him to attack, and then changed the subject to her training session earlier that afternoon and how her Watcher had seemed quite impressed with her ability. Spike hoped she wasn't going to hold it against him now. They had taken enough steps back in the past year, that they didn't need any more.

"I thought you were bragging," she admitted with shrug. "I thought maybe one tops, and the second one you just added on for show."

"Not really something you can lie about, pet."

She shrugged. "I suppose. Oh, hey, did you get the goods?"

Spike smirked, finally onto to a topic that didn't grate on his nerves. "That I did." Pulling her inside his

crypt, he placed the books on the floor in front of them when they got settled.

Rubbing her hands together gleefully she began to glance at the covers. Spike couldn't help but feel proud of the negative influence he seemed to have on her. "You took his Watcher's Diaries. Will - Spike, he's bound to notice these are missing."

"So?"

"I'm going to be working triple over time, and be forced to listen to him ramble on about how important these books are," complained Buffy. "Plus, I can't lie to him."

"You won't be unless he asks directly if you know who took them."

"And I do."

"Which in that case you'll have to lie."

Buffy moaned, banging her head lightly against the wall behind her. "You just had to take these didn't you?"

"Watchers always get the inside scoop. Most up to date information."

"Ugh, fine. But if I go down, you are so coming with me." He decided not to point out the fact that if she told on him, he would most likely be on the receiving end of a very pointy wooden stake.

"Just read up, luv."

"I won't like it."

"Wouldn't expect you to."

They leaned back each taking a book in hand, sitting shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, comfortable silence lingering as they skimmed the pages. Her body heat radiated off her, her close presence making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything but her. Spike shifted, if only in an attempt to get closer to Buffy, to feel her. That alone made reading through the junk in front of him worth it.

"Looks like the Watcher's been saying stuff about you," teased Spike a little while later.

"You shouldn't be reading that," said Buffy, making a grab for the book which Spike placed just out of reach. "What did he say?"

"Little attention span, blah, blah, Unfocused, blah, blah, blah, Badly disciplined, blah, blah, blah, oh and a skilled fighter," read Spike in a stuffy tone.

Buffy placed a hand over her heart in mock pride. "He really said I was skilled fighter?"

"Sure thing, pet," said Spike with a smirk. "Did ya find anything yet?"

"I'll tell you when I decipher this guys writing," said Buffy. She let out a frustrated sigh and put her book down. "We suck at this."

"Well maybe if you spent a little less time on your fighting skills and a little more time focusing, we wouldn't have that problem," teased the Vampire.

She pouted. "I hate you."

"That mean I don't get my kiss?"

She ducked her head, and Spike felt her cheeks redden. "Who said you were ever going to get one to begin with?"

"You still on about that?" questioned an exasperated Spike. He had snuck a kiss a few months back to see what would happen. He hadn't really seen the point, dream kissing, how was one supposed to get any pleasure off of that. Didn't make much sense, they were better off spending their time talking, at least get something productive down then. Instead of simply partaking in an act for the sake of it.

Plus, add in the fact that vampires and Slayers just simply don't partake in any form of snogging, it went against the cardinal rule of enemies. Which was something, at the time, that Spike had planned to uphold to a T. To the best of his abilities anyway. With each passing night they slowly broke each of those rules, till eventually they didn't seem to matter anymore. He had to face it, the relationship he had with Buffy just wasn't going to be a normal Slayer-vampire relationship, the bond that somehow existed between them simply didn't allow it. Spike was vastly approaching the point that he just didn't care though.

But anyway, Spike's curiosity had finally gotten the best of him, and he decided to go in for the final blow. He had complained that she had tasted like apples, a despised fruit on his part, and she had moaned about him tasting like everything from blood to alcohol to cigarettes. An unfortunate side effect of the dreams apparently; they enhanced the senses tenfold making the situation more than awkward. And now it was coming back to haunt him when he wanted to do nothing more than take her in his arms and snog her senseless. She was just so close, the warmth radiating off her touching his insides.

He wanted her. All of her. Wanted her now. And without second guessing his decision he closed the distance between them.


End file.
